Tutoring
by Nightwingess
Summary: Disclaimer don't own these characters... anyway! Tim Drake takes time out of his day to tutoring his girlfriend, Stephanie Brown, in math :)


"Steph, really, really… really." Tim was at his wit's end with the blonde who was attempting to balance a pencil on her nose instead of solving the latest calculus problem he'd written for her to solve. This was Steph's nature; she was distracted by the small things, marveled in the big ones and rarely counted the important ones as significant until she deemed them worthy of her attention.

"It's math." She said, her eyes up, looking at the tip of the pencil, studying the angles as it swayed from left to right. She enjoyed annoying Timmy; it was a hobby of hers that slowly turned into an entertaining habit.

"I'm pretty sure pencil balancing won't be on your test tomorrow." He took the pencil from her nose, slamming it down on the table. His glasses slide to the end of his own nose making him look like a tired old woman; she giggled. Tim wasn't being stern in a conventional sense, his voice was gentle but his action was strong. That was the contradiction of Timothy Jackson Drake, driven on the streets of Gotham as a hero looking for someone to save, and by choice not by forced duty, but also the boy with the quiet, shy laugh who was now trying his hardest to keep from smiling at her.

She had her hand on his as he tried to explain rolle's theorem to her. She wasn't having it. Math was a bore; despite having asked Tim for help it was really just a ploy to have some alone time in the empty back hall of the Library. Here with the air a tad musty, and the seats worn, the carpet stained from those rebels sneaking in juice, she was at peace with him. He went on with all the details of theories and what not but she only titled her head, waiting for him to finish. He squeezed her hand, pulling the pencil from behind his ear to shake his head.

"You're going to fail." He said as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. She touched the tip of his nose, smirking.

"How can I fail when is my tutor?" He chuckled, making the mistake of looking down where he saw all his notes from his other classes. He was taking several APs, advance placement classes for students wanting to work at a college level, along with getting credit for it. He sighed as he remembered the massive amounts of homework waiting for him, complete with analysis reports and chemistry formulas using thermo-stoichiometry. He'd be up all night, bat glaring at his papers as he tried to solve them all before midnight.

He was the nerd of his school, teased relentlessly, awkward in social situations due to his curiosity that often distracted him from the proper cues for interaction with this peers. He was a machine of reality, what was there was what he believed, as opposed to Stephanie Brown, far form being a wallflower that he was, she was a social butterfly. She had that infections smile, the bravado in her conversations that made people listen. She was sunshine and everyone knew it, soaring close to the sun, she was the dreamer lifting him off the ground and he was the realist who kept her from losing her wings by the heat of the sun that gave her strength.

"Why do you love me Stephanie?" He asked as if there was no conceivable notion as to why she'd even speak with him, let alone date him. She touched his hair, smelling so clean and fresh, his compulsions had him washing it on a daily basis. The poor little OCD child with his organized journals covered in clues and evidence.

"Who said I did." She liked to tease him just to see the wrinkles in his forehead push together. It was adorable and now that she could see it right in front of her, she wished to hear his warm laugh, the way it made her feel was unlike anything she'd ever felt. Better than the adrenaline of patrol, the backflips, the crush of bone under her fist and the swing of legs as she knocked down the villains. Those moments were her worth, the pieces of life that proved she was more than the daughter of a crook and a drug addict, she was a hero… a savior.

Being with Tim topped it all.

"You, all the time." Tim ran his hand over her purple sweater, or as she called it, "eggplant." He smiled at the thought, but somberly. He wanted assurance that she was his and he was hers, that she wasn't making a mistake, that this fantasy was actually possible in the realm of reality.

"All the time? I must love you a lot you adorkable nerd." She meant it. Both were well aware that she could have just about any guy she wanted but she wanted him. He made her think, he showed his devotion in the soft touches, the kind kisses, the permission to hold her tight at times, he was precious to her and unlike other boys, he saw her as a person he loved and not a girl he liked. Above all, he saw the potential she had and embraced it, even when he couldn't fully wrap his head around her complex personality. He knew she had the motivation, the will power to get up and fight no matter what the circumstances were.

"I love you Stephanie." He ended the sentence with a kiss, one as warm as his laughter that she loved so dearly. She mouthed out "I love you" in between breaths. Tim had picked up a paper, one of implicit differentiation, something Stephanie hated hearing. He mouthed it against her lips and she pulled back, letting out a hiss.

"No Drake, no." She tried to rip the paper from his hands but he was too quick for her and she found herself falling onto the floor, butt first.

"I love you too much to let you fail." He extended his hand out to her and she sighed, giving in easily for him, and only him.

"Fine but after this we're going to the international house of waffles and your buying."

"Deal."


End file.
